


hold my hand if I get scared now

by AikaKyomi



Category: Fate/Grand Order, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flowers, Fluff and Angst, Other, Romance, Set a few days before Enkidu's depart, This started out as cute oneshot about flowers why did it end up hurting like this oh god
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:08:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26506477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AikaKyomi/pseuds/AikaKyomi
Summary: “You know, Gil, we’ve spent a lot of time together,” Enkidu spoke in a soft voice, yet their eyes were riveted on the flower, the red petals contrasting with their shape as blood would have on a piece of linen. “Despite what you have persisted to show me, I’ve learned a lot about you.” Gil nodded silently, his head low. “You’re vigorous and intelligent; you’d never bear to lose to someone in battle. But you also tend to be impetuous, rushing headfirst into conflict without thinking of aftermaths. Not that this is problematic: but you’re used to acting first and thinking second. In truth, I don’t believe you think much about the future. About yourself.”Gilgamesh was about to snap back, yet as his friend’s words replayed in his head he realized that they weren’t far from the truth. Scratch that, it was the truth. They were nailing his whole personality down like an arrow striking the center of a target. It wasn’t the first time they landed so close to home; yet every time Gilgamesh was taken by surprise, speechless.“It’s a shot in the dark here but…” Enkidu continued, lifting an arm over Gilgamesh’s head so they could pin the rose onto his hair. “I think you’re terrified. Terrified of death. Of being alone.”
Relationships: Enkidu | False Lancer/Gilgamesh | Archer, Enkidu | False Lancer/Gilgamesh | Caster
Comments: 10
Kudos: 46





	hold my hand if I get scared now

**Author's Note:**

> So... Yeah.  
> Initially, this started out as a cute fluffy concept involving my favorite Fate ship and flower gardens. And I don't know why it ended up being an angsty tale of heartbreak and sorrow, but now I want to cry. Yay
> 
> Basically, this very short one-shot takes place a few days before Enkidu's "death", as the Gods are deliberating around the subject. Don't shout at me for spoilers: The Epic has been out for over 5000 years by now. 
> 
> As usual, my little inspiration song is Troye Sivan's "Bloom"! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LtSbYcxwKlo. At least it was the initial inspiration, I'm not sure how much it fits now with the direction I took. Oh well, listen to it anyway!
> 
> Have a good read, and leave a comment if you liked it! It's always my pride and joy to read y'alls opinion!

There was something in flowers that Gilgamesh enjoyed. He couldn't quite put a finger on it, yet he knew that their peacefulness held on to something that was quite incomparable in anything else. Meager, negligible, at the mercy of the wind and the Gods; in reality, he usually held these criteria pretty high up in his definition of weakness. Yet in flowers, It didn't really bother him; quite the contrary in fact. If anything, it calmed him, enough for him to consider his time in the garden as a well-earned break from his duties to Uruk.

The king was yet again in a moment of contemplation, sitting at the edge of a rose garden with his legs crossed. The immense marble enclosure was crowded with vibrant colors: from tulips, orchids to hydrangea, lotuses, and fruit trees, Gilgamesh’s garden was as close as possible to a natural foray through the world, decorated with all sorts of plants and seedlings. It was his pride and joy, and despite its incommensurable beauty very few were allowed to step in and to gaze. He’d always been sort of selfish, especially when it concerned what he loved the most.

But he had not climbed up there to merely glance at flowery petals; he in fact often came here when he was in need of guidance, and some goddamn peace and quiet. At the thought, a wistful of emerald hair and a shimmering smile materialized in his head, a hundred times brighter than the sun that warmed up his shoulders. He exhaled sharply, his eyes locked to the ground; it was pretty rare for him to fight with his best friend, after all, he had all the rights to be flustered. Enkidu was always gentle and serene, but they were also very stubbornly honest. Meaning that they would always get their point across, even if it included a harsh truth.

It’s not that Gilgamesh did not want to hear about it; he was aware that even with his blood and heritage, he was still merely mortal. And yet, even though he’d never admit that the perspective of death frightened him, he was even more scared of losing his friend. They were immortal; but also under the thumbs of the Gods, foolish and capricious beings that Gilgamesh despised the most. Despite their strength, they were probably the most vulnerable of all. And Enkidu was right: nothing was without repercussions.

He heard footsteps, softly brushing against the amber slabs behind him. Gilgamesh did not turn around for there was only one person that the guards would have allowed to come up there. “I know you’re upset.” a serene voice spoke behind him. “I apologize.”  
“Don’t.” the King mumbled without sparing them a glance. “I don’t want to hear it.”

He felt his shoulders tense as a quiet chuckle resounded at his side, and he eventually met Enkidu’s silvery gaze in front of him. He averted his eyes, keeping watch on the flower bed next to him; Enkidu could only smile in compassion. “You never change, King,” they noted, earning themselves an irritated glance in exchange.  
"You know better than to call me that, friend.” Gilgamesh gritted between his clenched teeth. “Especially now.”

He looked up at Enkidu a bit more tenderly this time. He knew he couldn’t bear to be furious at him for much longer, yet anger was easier to bear than anguish. Though the King of Uruk would never admit to such things, he felt scared. Anxious. He was already bad at discerning his emotions, but now he was swimming in nothingness.

Enkidu, without losing their reassuring smile, tilted their head lightly. “Alright, Gil.” they nodded. “Your nickname sounds much better, in all regards.”  
For a faint second, a smirk drew itself on Gilgamesh’s lips. “Yeah, it does.”

Then, there was silence again. But there was nothing awkward about it: the two friends had already told themselves everything in the world, it was simply normal sometimes to run out of stories to tell. They’d traveled the world, fought against beasts and Gods, lived through hardships. There was nothing more to say; yet they were now facing a wall that could prove difficult to overcome, as both were lost through heavy thoughts.

“I know you don’t like it.” Enkidu finally spoke, startling Gilgamesh out of his contemplation. “I know it may be unfair. But we can’t go against the will of the Gods, you of all people should know that.”  
“It’s all that bratty Goddess’ fault!” the King retorted with a thundering shout. “Why should anyone be punished for a brat’s impulsive outburst?”  
“Ishtar had every right to send the Bull-”  
“And thus we had every right to take it down!”

Enkidu sighed, their usual glow long gone as their eyes took a more serious stance. “Gil, the Gods have motivations that are higher than ours. We may not always understand them, but they are what they are, and we must respect them.” They put their hand up as the King was about to once again interrupt them angrily. “With that said, I can’t say I agree, but that decision is not mine to make.”  
Gilgamesh bit his upper lip as he listened. “Are they still deliberating?” he asked, struggling to keep his calm. “About your fate.”  
“Yes. I should learn of their desired judgment in a few days from now.”

He felt silent, and Gilgamesh tightened his fists, nearly digging into the palm of his hands with his nails. How unjust, how selfish were those Gods, thinking they could have a hand in something that was none of their control. Never had they consulted either him or Enkidu about all this, rather listening to a childish Goddess’ nonsensical words instead. When she had asked his hand in marriage, he laughed to her face; clearly she’d never gotten over her naive heartbreak.

“It makes no sense,” he muttered. “They have a grudge against me. Why shouldn’t I be the one getting punished?”  
“Gil-”  
“It’s unfair! You haven’t done anything wrong!”  
“I know.” Enkidu nodded with a sad smile. “But I am their creation. I have been created at their will, as a tool.”  
Gilgamesh gritted his teeth furiously. “Stop saying that,” he grumbled, stomping his feet against the marble low wall. “You’re no such thing.”

He felt a hand landing on his shoulder, yet he did not move an inch. He knew Enkidu was merely trying to be reassuring, but he had a lot of difficulty wrapping his head around all this. He didn’t understand; he couldn’t understand why the Gods wished him so much suffering. Sometimes, he wished he felt nothing at all.

“I’m whatever you need me to be,” Enkidu affirmed, sitting next to Gilgamesh. Their immaculate tunic swayed alongside the flower bed. “But that doesn’t mean I can change my fate.”  
The King lifted his chin, his eyes meeting up with Enkidu’s. They were still, as the ocean on a calm night, yet they displayed a sentiment he couldn’t quite convey. “You’re my friend before anything else.” he proudly claimed, and Enkidu chuckled at his comment. “Don’t laugh! I’m being serious, for once.”  
“I know.” they smiled.

As much as he wanted to, Gilgamesh could not reciprocate their smirk. He still felt in somewhat of a surreal daze, where he wished that every spoken word would be a figment of his imagination.

He would’ve cursed himself if he wasn’t Gilgamesh, King of Uruk, and a mighty leader. Against his own volition, he was being weak right now; succumbing to emotions rather than listening to his usual rational thoughts. Although he was aware of his tendency to become impulsive at times, though he only conceded the veracity of this to Enkidu, he was not the one to be overcome by feelings. So why now? He hated it.

“What is it?” it felt like it had been minutes when the blond King came back to his spirits, gazing at his friend who had just spoken. “You seem deep in thoughts. I can’t recall seeing you like this often apart from in the throne room.”  
Gilgamesh flicked his remark off with his hand. “It is nothing. You shouldn’t worry, my friend.”  
“Are you seriously thinking that I’m going to believe that?”

Of course they wouldn’t. Enkidu could see through him like glass, there was no way they’d be fooled. Yet he did not answer, maintaining their eye contact without a word. His green-haired friend only exhaled sharply, turning their head over slightly so to have a look at the flower bed. They ignored the thorns as their ivory hands reached into the bushes, picking up a rose as if it was a piece of gold.

“You know, Gil, we’ve spent a lot of time together,” Enkidu spoke in a soft voice, yet their eyes were riveted on the flower, the red petals contrasting with their shape as blood would have on a piece of linen. “Despite what you have persisted to show me, I’ve learned a lot about you.” Gilgamesh nodded silently, his head low. “You’re vigorous and intelligent; you’d never bear to lose to someone in battle. But you also tend to be impetuous, rushing headfirst into conflict without thinking of aftermaths. Not that this is problematic: but you’re used to acting first and thinking second. In truth, I don’t believe you think much about the future. About yourself.”

Gilgamesh was about to snap back, yet as his friend’s words replayed in his head he realized that they weren’t far from the truth. Scratch that, it was the truth. They were nailing his whole personality down like an arrow striking the center of a target. It wasn’t the first time they landed so close to home; yet every time Gilgamesh was taken by surprise, speechless.

“It’s a shot in the dark here but…” Enkidu continued, lifting an arm over Gilgamesh’s head so they could pin the rose onto his hair. “I think you’re terrified. Terrified of death. Of being alone.”  
“Stop!”

The King nudged his friend away as he threw himself down the low wall, the crimson flower slowly falling to the ground. His eyes were fixated at the sky, as the warmth of the afternoon draped his surroundings. He knew they were right, but he could not allow himself to admit it. What would be next if he did? How could a mighty King such as he keep sitting on the throne if he allowed emotions to breach his walls?

“Gil-”  
“Enough!” he shouted, his back still turned to Enkidu. “You don’t- you can’t possibly understand!” he paused. “I am Gilgamesh, King of Uruk! I cannot feel fear!”

Silent seconds passed, and the blond man was about to swing his head around when he felt the warmth of a body against his back, the embrace of soft arms around his chest. He didn’t move an inch, his lips firmly shut.

“It’s okay.” he heard his favorite voice mumble. “You don’t have to maintain this facade with me, you know?”

Enkidu took a step back, only to reach for Gilgamesh’s hand and incite him to turn around. The King let himself be swayed, though glaring daggers at his friend. They then crouched slowly, picking up the flower with the tip of their fingers only to lift it at the level of their face with a distant smile.

“Now, talk to me,” Enkidu spoke softly, replacing the rose on Gilgamesh’s head.

There was a heavy silence, for a good minute and a half. The King of Uruk wasn’t sure of what to say, but he finally conceded to his friend’s insistent gaze. “I-I’m not ready to lose you, alright?” he finally spoke, sorrow tinting his words. “We’ve been through so much together, you’re the only one I’d trust by my side. You can’t go. You’re not allowed to.”  
Once again, a smile drew itself on Enkidu’s face. Yet it was filled with sadness. “You know that neither of us has a say in that.”  
“Yes. That’s why I hate it.”

They both looked at each other for a long time, indulging in the other’s befuddled stare. It was difficult to admit, especially for two beings that had spent a good portion of their lives together, that it could end as such in a snap of a finger under the will of benevolent yet egoistical Gods. It was sure unjust to them; yet nobody, demi-god or tool of their creation, could sway fate as they pleased.

Gilgamesh sighed loudly, embracing his friend tightly to prevent himself from drowning in fatalistic thoughts. Enkidu gasped in surprise, but nodded as they snuggled against his chest with a smile.

“Whatever happens,” they whispered, “I’ll always be with you.”  
“You’re not going anywhere.”

They didn’t need any words; once again, everything had been said. For now, it was merely a waiting game, to see if the Gods were ready to lend them their favor. It was painful, agonizing even, but they didn’t have a choice. Rather, it was time for them to brave the consequences of their acts. That moment would’ve come soon enough either way.

Enkidu grinned. “Always so stubborn, my King,” they stated, earning themselves yet another frown. “I’ll bring myself to believe in your words then, as utopic as they may be.”  
“As you should, for my words always bear the truth.” the blond man nodded, with the hint of a smirk at the corner of his lips. This sounded a lot more like their usual bickering teases.  
“I sure hope so.”

Their gazes met once more, longing. Enkidu traced on the lines of Gilgamesh’s jaws with a finger before stalling their thumb right onto his lips. With a swift glance down as if asking for permission, they lifted themself upwards, closing the short gap between both their faces. Yet it was the King of Uruk himself that leaned in.

In truth, it wasn’t the first time they kissed. They shared such a deep bound that to an outsider, it would belong way past the limits of friendship. Kisses, and even more, had eventually grown to be the norm to express their feelings of attachment, as intense as they may be. But this time, there were no butterflies, no stars, no bliss. It hurt. Gilgamesh felt his whole chest tightening, anxiety cowering over him. What if this was their last? How much time had he left really, holding his friend in such an intimate embrace? He was smart enough to puzzle the answers himself, and he couldn’t bear to hear them.

No matter what, he promised himself, he would never forget. All those years, those epics, those tales, those feelings. If the Gods had their own will, they may dissolve Enkidu for long, even forever if they felt like it. So much time spent in nothingness, away from everything that they loved. Gilgamesh was determined, however: there was no way he’d die without bringing his friend back. He’d have to become immortal, no matter the cost; and if they banished Enkidu away for eternity, then he’d just have to wait longer than that.

Resolute, the King held on even tighter as they both pulled back.  
“I love you... Gilgamesh.” Enkidu whispered, their eyes closed as he was relishing the precious moment. “Don’t ever leave my side.”  
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

And without a gaze they fell to the ground, surrounded by swaying flowers, hoping they’d never have to let go.


End file.
